We ran out of the special Record Store Day limited tote bag version of the AMF reissues, but we just got the last remaining copies of the vinyl reissues (sans tote bag) direct from the band. Both lps are again sadly out of print. But while they last, we have a handful of the nice priced 4lp set which includes both Flemish Altruism and Inindependence... Here's our review of both when we listed this back around Record Store Day...
In the most recent issue of Entertainment Weekly (!), our very own Andee was asked about what Record Store Day Releases we were most excited about. He mentioned a bunch, but the two they actually included in the magazine, were the utterly hilarious music nerd classic Rock, Rot And Rule (now sadly out of print), and these two vinyl reissues, from recently reunited / reactivated nineties post/math/noise rock combo A Minor Forest, which as many of you know, is in fact Andee's band! He was kind of joking, and a bit embarrassed when THAT was one of the ones they picked to print, but really, we WERE pretty excited. These two records have been out of print on vinyl for a decade, and have been remastered, now come with digital downloads, and one has all new artwork! But instead of making Andee further toot his own horn, we figured we'd try to be more objective, and let some other folks weigh in. A couple reviews from the past, and a couple from the present. So when we first reviewed these back in the day, for AMF's debut, Flemish Altruism, we asked beloved aQ-pal Douglas Mosurak to say a few words about that record, here's that original review from years and years ago:
"October 22, 1996: Bay Area rock trio A Minor Forest stop indie rock dead. Their new double LP on Thrill Jockey is so incredible, and subsequently so complete, that no other records of its kind need to be produced anymore. Lesser bands of their stripe are currently being petitioned to break up immediately to save embarrassment. And while some people will miss, like, June of 44 or the Archers of Loaf for a little while, with the proper exposure to Flemish Altruism, they'll forget all about it. AMF manage to piece together everything good about every post-Big Black and every post-Heroin outfit into a seamless, epic sound; fairly dense, deeply emotional and thoroughly human. They have the sense of humor required to lift it off, too. Some of their songs prefer to hide in the corner; some lunge for your throat. Their style is such that their original ideas fill in with ones borrowed from their rich lineage in such a manner that pays tribute without disrespect. It's a thoroughly engaging sound that I'd rank up there with the Bitch Magnet discography, with the Bastro LPs, with the Gore records, with the cream of the Gravity crop, even with the Shellac album. Best rock record of 1996, and currently outweighing all proposed rock concepts until the close of the millennium. Buy two. Wow."
Then, the follow up Inindependence was reviewed thusly by us upon its original release (when aQ reviews were still concise and impossibly brief):
"Simply put, this may be the last bastion of rock on Thrill Jockey, before they devolve into a purely electronic/jazz label. Sure we may be boasting a little, because A Minor Forest is our very own Andee Connors' band. But this truly is a great record of delicate math rock instrumentations executed with violent precision!"
So here were are 15+ years later, and both records, now reissued and available as a swank 4lp / tote bag set, in honor of the just passed 2014 iteration of Record Store Day, are ripe for reassessment, a new listen to some old sounds, with fresh ears, a bit of distance, and years of subsequent music making in their wake. So, here's what the illustrious Pitchfork site had to say this week about both AMF records:
According to legend, the A Minor Forest song "Bill's Mom Likes to Fuck" - a high point of the post-rock group's 1996 debut album, Flemish Altruism - was swiped from an inside joke that had circulated for years among the punk kids of Rapid City, South Dakota. A Minor Forest wasn't from Rapid City; they hailed from far-off San Francisco. But the band toured extensively throughout the country during its 90s-spanning existence, playing many of the same DIY venues that hosted the burgeoning post-hardcore and emo bands of that decade. If there's one thing that brings people together, it's cruel humor - and A Minor Forest, brooding and abrasive as well as downright delicate, knew a good joke when they heard it.
Flemish Altruism was reissued on vinyl for this year's Record Store Day, alongside A Minor Forest's other studio album, 1998's Inindependence. The rollout has been humble one, and it can't help but be compared to Slint's deservedly lavish Spiderland box set this month. Slint blazed trails with its dour, eerie ominousness; A Minor Forest, on the other hand, neither innovated nor intimidated. That doesn't make Flemish Altruism any less tense. The shadow of Slint - as well of Slint's slower, icier cousin, Codeine - loom large over A Minor Forest's distended syllables and dangling chords. The group had been honing that sound on singles and EPs since 1994, but Flemish Altruism tracks like "...But the Pants Stay On" and "Jacking Off George Lucas" groped for a new vocabulary out of the fragments laying around after post-rock's early-'90s Big Bang. What resulted was pidgin Slint-but in that process of restructuring, A Minor Forest came damn close to inventing post-post-rock, where the subgenre's self-seriousness was wrestled with until it laughed, gasped, and collapsed.
Steve Albini and Bob Weston produced Flemish Altruism, and the nerve-tightening cello they'd previously captured on Nirvana's In Utero feels almost deliberately evoked on the album's most arresting song, "Perform the Critical Straw Transfer". Singer/guitarist Erik Hoversten opens it with a deadpan punch line: "Guess you really lucked out�" he begins, his numb voice trailing off as bassist John Trevor Benson screams bestially yet faintly in the background, "�on this one." Sarcasm never sounded so black. Beneath them, cellist Dominique Davison saws with quiet strength, as if mocking and apologizing at the same time. The screaming gets pushed to the fore on thoroughly non-dainty "Dainty Jack and His Amazing Technicolor Cloth Jacket", an erratic spasm of dissonance that shows an affinity for San Diego screamo (A Minor Forest had previously recorded with Matt Anderson of Heroin), only broken up here and there with squibs of pinpoint jazziness. The balance is struck almost perfectly on "Bill's Mom Likes to Fuck", a 10-minute noise-cycle of mood swings, red herrings, and curdled blood.
The wiseass, scattershot racket of Flemish Altruism settles into a more predictable groove onInindependence. Concise and controlled by comparison, A Minor Forest's second and final album (not including their 1999 singles-and-EPs collection, ...So, Were They in Some Sort of Fight?) drags more algebra into the rhythm and more calculation into the off-kilter melody. It wouldn't be fair to say the band had begun to take itself either more or less seriously - but the music is more serious, and even the song titles are less crass. If "Erik's Budding Romance" is to be taken at face value, that relationship flip-flopped randomly and often between coy, candlelit dinners and table-flipping eruptions of lust. Drummer Andee Connors, an unsung hero of his instrument and era, is in top form, coaxing every shade of texture, dynamic, and emotion out of the kit. There are honest, unabashed hooks on the deliciously brief (that is, under four minutes) centerpiece, "�It's Salmon!!!", as well as in "Michael Anthony", which skips a sweet melody across a minefield of disjointed changes and chords. At the same time, the album's 18-minute monster "The Smell of Hot" never fully jells; as A Minor Forest's recording career drew to a halt, patience-testing jams occupied one extreme of their spectrum, while a hint of pleasing pop teased at the other.
A Minor Forest's legacy is not a towering one. Most notably, Hoversten went on to play with Pinback, where he was able to indulge his love of angular melody much more avidly. The band never seemed to want to make bold statements, and it always punctured whatever atmosphere it crafted with wiry self-deprecation and perverse wit. When A Minor Forest reunited in 2013 after a 15-year hiatus, Hoversten said in a radio interview, "[This reunion is] sort of like, take an outfit you wore 15 years ago, then put it on today. Clearly you liked it at one point, but it's not exactly the outfit you would have chosen today. That being said, it's not like I'm being asked to put on a clown suit." Despite their crank titles and in-jokes, A Minor Forest was never a funny band. But they had fun, and that fun seeped into their music. And that makes Flemish Altruism and Inindependence two of the most endlessly rewarding albums of the 90s post-rock boom, if never the most monolithic.
And finally, here's a review of both Flemish Altruism and Inindependence from the always awesome Pop Matters:
The bare truth behind two classic albums from the 1990s.
I remember it clearly: the road was a hazy sequence of distant glares kept together by a dense, hazy lull immersed in the purest of mists. My friend, the proud owner of the CD, was holding the music artifact with one hand, while the other occasionally found its way up and down the wheel, now on this side; now on the other. I never knew how both hands also managed to offer such an accurate interpretation of the drumming, but his abilities ceased to amaze me when my side of the car hit a guardrail that seemed to have popped out from nowhere. My friend carefully placed the CD case in the glove compartment and met me outside the vehicle, where we assessed the damage. "That drumming! Oh boy, that drumming!", was all he had to say.
Not much has happened in the 16 years that followed that day. My friend got married, paid his way to a divorce and when we meet, I drive, so he can be Andee Connors and I can take good care of our lives. In the real world, the influence of a band like A Minor Forest - a scruffy bunch of lads from San Francisco - still echoes on both sides of the Atlantic. Inheritors of the legacy initiated by bands like Slint, Bastro, Gastr Del Sol and Shellac, A Minor Forest's name appears, rightly or wrongly, almost invariably as part of the American post-rock scene, as if their own legacy could not be singled out and stand on its own two feet. But while most people blame them, together with a whole bunch of Midwestern acts loosely located in the "Corn Belt", for the explosion of the math-rock plague, the impact this short-lived ensemble has had on indie rock is probably still far from being recognised.
Their two classic albums, Flemish Altruism and Inindependence, reissued on vinyl by Thrill Jockey for Record Store Day on 19 April, are both presented with an array of previously unpublished pictures in a special four-LP set that includes download cards. However, what matters the most is that these albums, which have been out of print for a decade, have been remastered from the original tapes. The sensuality of the naked, raw sound that was the core of that scene (and I hereby use this term in the artistic, rather than in the geographic sense) is therefore faithfully represented in all its purity and ingenuity. "The Dutch Fist", "So Jesus Was At the Last Supper" and "...But the Pants Stay On" are some of the finest representations imaginable of noise as the most spontaneous by-product of the deconstruction of rock grammar. This primary necessity regulated by tradition - Erik Hoversten (guitars and vocals) and John Trevor Benson (bass) had both studied music at Berkeley - found its champions in Steve Albini (who else?) and Bob Weston (he too of Shellac fame), whose uncompromised affection for stripped-down sounds and total lack of artificiality constituted the perfect match for the band.
Flemish Altruism is the result of this formula, and tunes like "Jacking Off George Lucas" or "Ed Is 50" betray an improvisational approach which heavily relies on the dichotomy between the extreme unpredictability of noise and the discipline usually behind melodic patterns. The almost mandatory (at least back then) tour of most of the US would lead, two years later, to the recording of Inindependence: an album that followed the path traced by its predecessor, perpetuating the angularity and eclecticism that would make A Minor Forest easily recognizable years after their dissolution.
Flemish Altruism and Inindependence are the band's only full-lengths and it could not be otherwise. Although a collection of much of their out of print material, plus a couple of new tracks made it onto the Were They in Some Sort of Fight? CD on My Pal God Records in 1999, these two albums vouch for an incredibly inspired band which disbanded once they realized that the traditional rock instrumentation was starting to restrict their enormous potential and creativity. Does this awareness affect these two records? Not at all. A Minor Forest didn't live long enough to see their craft surpass their inspiration, and for this reason their legacy is definitely safer now than it was 20 years ago!
As mentioned above, both Flemish Altruism and Inindependence have been remastered, both include digital downloads, and are housed in swank full color gatefold jackets, Flemish Altruism has all new artwork!!
In the most recent issue of Entertainment Weekly (!), our very own Andee was asked about what Record Store Day Releases we were most excited about. He mentioned a bunch, but the two they actually included in the magazine, were the utterly hilarious music nerd classic Rock, Rot And Rule, which you'll find reviewed elsewhere on this week's list, and these two vinyl reissues, from recently reunited / reactivated nineties post/math/noise rock combo A Minor Forest, which as many of you know, is in fact Andee's band! He was kind of joking, and a bit embarrassed when THAT was one of the ones they picked to print, but really, we WERE pretty excited. These two records have been out of print on vinyl for a decade, and have been remastered, now come with digital downloads, and one has all new artwork! But instead of making Andee further toot his own horn, we figured we'd try to be more objective, and let some other folks weigh in. A couple reviews from the past, and a couple from the present. So when we first reviewed these back in the day, for AMF's debut, Flemish Altruism, we asked beloved aQ-pal Douglas Mosurak to say a few words about that record, here's that original review from years and years ago:
"October 22, 1996: Bay Area rock trio A Minor Forest stop indie rock dead. Their new double LP on Thrill Jockey is so incredible, and subsequently so complete, that no other records of its kind need to be produced anymore. Lesser bands of their stripe are currently being petitioned to break up immediately to save embarrassment. And while some people will miss, like, June of 44 or the Archers of Loaf for a little while, with the proper exposure to Flemish Altruism, they'll forget all about it. AMF manage to piece together everything good about every post-Big Black and every post-Heroin outfit into a seamless, epic sound; fairly dense, deeply emotional and thoroughly human. They have the sense of humor required to lift it off, too. Some of their songs prefer to hide in the corner; some lunge for your throat. Their style is such that their original ideas fill in with ones borrowed from their rich lineage in such a manner that pays tribute without disrespect. It's a thoroughly engaging sound that I'd rank up there with the Bitch Magnet discography, with the Bastro LPs, with the Gore records, with the cream of the Gravity crop, even with the Shellac album. Best rock record of 1996, and currently outweighing all proposed rock concepts until the close of the millennium. Buy two. Wow."
Then, the follow up Inindependence was reviewed thusly by us upon its original release (when aQ reviews were still concise and impossibly brief):
"Simply put, this may be the last bastion of rock on Thrill Jockey, before they devolve into a purely electronic/jazz label. Sure we may be boasting a little, because A Minor Forest is our very own Andee Connors' band. But this truly is a great record of delicate math rock instrumentations executed with violent precision!"
So here were are 15+ years later, and both records, now reissued and available as a swank 4lp / tote bag set, in honor of the just passed 2014 iteration of Record Store Day, are ripe for reassessment, a new listen to some old sounds, with fresh ears, a bit of distance, and years of subsequent music making in their wake. So, here's what the illustrious Pitchfork site had to say this week about both AMF records:
According to legend, the A Minor Forest song "Bill's Mom Likes to Fuck" - a high point of the post-rock group's 1996 debut album, Flemish Altruism - was swiped from an inside joke that had circulated for years among the punk kids of Rapid City, South Dakota. A Minor Forest wasn't from Rapid City; they hailed from far-off San Francisco. But the band toured extensively throughout the country during its 90s-spanning existence, playing many of the same DIY venues that hosted the burgeoning post-hardcore and emo bands of that decade. If there's one thing that brings people together, it's cruel humor - and A Minor Forest, brooding and abrasive as well as downright delicate, knew a good joke when they heard it.
Flemish Altruism was reissued on vinyl for this year's Record Store Day, alongside A Minor Forest's other studio album, 1998's Inindependence. The rollout has been humble one, and it can't help but be compared to Slint's deservedly lavish Spiderland box set this month. Slint blazed trails with its dour, eerie ominousness; A Minor Forest, on the other hand, neither innovated nor intimidated. That doesn't make Flemish Altruism any less tense. The shadow of Slint - as well of Slint's slower, icier cousin, Codeine - loom large over A Minor Forest's distended syllables and dangling chords. The group had been honing that sound on singles and EPs since 1994, but Flemish Altruism tracks like "...But the Pants Stay On" and "Jacking Off George Lucas" groped for a new vocabulary out of the fragments laying around after post-rock's early-'90s Big Bang. What resulted was pidgin Slint-but in that process of restructuring, A Minor Forest came damn close to inventing post-post-rock, where the subgenre's self-seriousness was wrestled with until it laughed, gasped, and collapsed.
Steve Albini and Bob Weston produced Flemish Altruism, and the nerve-tightening cello they'd previously captured on Nirvana's In Utero feels almost deliberately evoked on the album's most arresting song, "Perform the Critical Straw Transfer". Singer/guitarist Erik Hoversten opens it with a deadpan punch line: "Guess you really lucked out�" he begins, his numb voice trailing off as bassist John Trevor Benson screams bestially yet faintly in the background, "�on this one." Sarcasm never sounded so black. Beneath them, cellist Dominique Davison saws with quiet strength, as if mocking and apologizing at the same time. The screaming gets pushed to the fore on thoroughly non-dainty "Dainty Jack and His Amazing Technicolor Cloth Jacket", an erratic spasm of dissonance that shows an affinity for San Diego screamo (A Minor Forest had previously recorded with Matt Anderson of Heroin), only broken up here and there with squibs of pinpoint jazziness. The balance is struck almost perfectly on "Bill's Mom Likes to Fuck", a 10-minute noise-cycle of mood swings, red herrings, and curdled blood.
The wiseass, scattershot racket of Flemish Altruism settles into a more predictable groove onInindependence. Concise and controlled by comparison, A Minor Forest's second and final album (not including their 1999 singles-and-EPs collection, ...So, Were They in Some Sort of Fight?) drags more algebra into the rhythm and more calculation into the off-kilter melody. It wouldn't be fair to say the band had begun to take itself either more or less seriously - but the music is more serious, and even the song titles are less crass. If "Erik's Budding Romance" is to be taken at face value, that relationship flip-flopped randomly and often between coy, candlelit dinners and table-flipping eruptions of lust. Drummer Andee Connors, an unsung hero of his instrument and era, is in top form, coaxing every shade of texture, dynamic, and emotion out of the kit. There are honest, unabashed hooks on the deliciously brief (that is, under four minutes) centerpiece, "�It's Salmon!!!", as well as in "Michael Anthony", which skips a sweet melody across a minefield of disjointed changes and chords. At the same time, the album's 18-minute monster "The Smell of Hot" never fully jells; as A Minor Forest's recording career drew to a halt, patience-testing jams occupied one extreme of their spectrum, while a hint of pleasing pop teased at the other.
A Minor Forest's legacy is not a towering one. Most notably, Hoversten went on to play with Pinback, where he was able to indulge his love of angular melody much more avidly. The band never seemed to want to make bold statements, and it always punctured whatever atmosphere it crafted with wiry self-deprecation and perverse wit. When A Minor Forest reunited in 2013 after a 15-year hiatus, Hoversten said in a radio interview, "[This reunion is] sort of like, take an outfit you wore 15 years ago, then put it on today. Clearly you liked it at one point, but it's not exactly the outfit you would have chosen today. That being said, it's not like I'm being asked to put on a clown suit." Despite their crank titles and in-jokes, A Minor Forest was never a funny band. But they had fun, and that fun seeped into their music. And that makes Flemish Altruism and Inindependence two of the most endlessly rewarding albums of the 90s post-rock boom, if never the most monolithic.
And finally, here's a review of both Flemish Altruism and Inindependence from the always awesome Pop Matters:
The bare truth behind two classic albums from the 1990s.
I remember it clearly: the road was a hazy sequence of distant glares kept together by a dense, hazy lull immersed in the purest of mists. My friend, the proud owner of the CD, was holding the music artifact with one hand, while the other occasionally found its way up and down the wheel, now on this side; now on the other. I never knew how both hands also managed to offer such an accurate interpretation of the drumming, but his abilities ceased to amaze me when my side of the car hit a guardrail that seemed to have popped out from nowhere. My friend carefully placed the CD case in the glove compartment and met me outside the vehicle, where we assessed the damage. "That drumming! Oh boy, that drumming!", was all he had to say.
Not much has happened in the 16 years that followed that day. My friend got married, paid his way to a divorce and when we meet, I drive, so he can be Andee Connors and I can take good care of our lives. In the real world, the influence of a band like A Minor Forest - a scruffy bunch of lads from San Francisco - still echoes on both sides of the Atlantic. Inheritors of the legacy initiated by bands like Slint, Bastro, Gastr Del Sol and Shellac, A Minor Forest's name appears, rightly or wrongly, almost invariably as part of the American post-rock scene, as if their own legacy could not be singled out and stand on its own two feet. But while most people blame them, together with a whole bunch of Midwestern acts loosely located in the "Corn Belt", for the explosion of the math-rock plague, the impact this short-lived ensemble has had on indie rock is probably still far from being recognised.
Their two classic albums, Flemish Altruism and Inindependence, reissued on vinyl by Thrill Jockey for Record Store Day on 19 April, are both presented with an array of previously unpublished pictures in a special four-LP set that includes download cards. However, what matters the most is that these albums, which have been out of print for a decade, have been remastered from the original tapes. The sensuality of the naked, raw sound that was the core of that scene (and I hereby use this term in the artistic, rather than in the geographic sense) is therefore faithfully represented in all its purity and ingenuity. "The Dutch Fist", "So Jesus Was At the Last Supper" and "...But the Pants Stay On" are some of the finest representations imaginable of noise as the most spontaneous by-product of the deconstruction of rock grammar. This primary necessity regulated by tradition - Erik Hoversten (guitars and vocals) and John Trevor Benson (bass) had both studied music at Berkeley - found its champions in Steve Albini (who else?) and Bob Weston (he too of Shellac fame), whose uncompromised affection for stripped-down sounds and total lack of artificiality constituted the perfect match for the band.
Flemish Altruism is the result of this formula, and tunes like "Jacking Off George Lucas" or "Ed Is 50" betray an improvisational approach which heavily relies on the dichotomy between the extreme unpredictability of noise and the discipline usually behind melodic patterns. The almost mandatory (at least back then) tour of most of the US would lead, two years later, to the recording of Inindependence: an album that followed the path traced by its predecessor, perpetuating the angularity and eclecticism that would make A Minor Forest easily recognizable years after their dissolution.
Flemish Altruism and Inindependence are the band's only full-lengths and it could not be otherwise. Although a collection of much of their out of print material, plus a couple of new tracks made it onto the Were They in Some Sort of Fight? CD on My Pal God Records in 1999, these two albums vouch for an incredibly inspired band which disbanded once they realized that the traditional rock instrumentation was starting to restrict their enormous potential and creativity. Does this awareness affect these two records? Not at all. A Minor Forest didn't live long enough to see their craft surpass their inspiration, and for this reason their legacy is definitely safer now than it was 20 years ago!
As mentioned above, both Flemish Altruism and Inindependence have been remastered, both include digital downloads, and are housed in swank full color gatefold jackets, Flemish Altruism has all new artwork, and while they last, available ONLY at aQ (or from the band on their upcoming tour, which begins a few days after this week's list!), both records are bundled together (4lps!), for a special low price, and housed in a silkscreened tote bag, with a killer new AMF logo by none other than Christoph Szpadjel, the Lord Of The Logos!
There are some of us around here at aQ HQ who just might cite The Afghan Whigs as one of the best American rock bands of the 1990s, so to say that their first new album in 16 years was highly anticipated around these parts would be a huge understatement. And is it exactly what we wanted? Is it a complete return to the classic mid '90s Whigs sound?? Is it Gentlemen part 2??? Actually no, not really. But is it totally great? Yep. It sure is. Instead of Do To The Beast being a continuation of where the Afghan Whigs left off when they broke up in 2001, it's instead more of a culmination of everything Greg Dulli's done before and since. It's sensual, seedy, dripping with lurid disdain just like classic Whigs, but it's also musically much tighter, more produced and layered, way more of a studio production, like Dulli's more recent project Twilight Singers. "Parked Outside" has all the drunken confident swagger of a man with truly nothing to lose. "Matamoros" is a jittery slither, sparking with clattering violins, throbbing bass and twisted funk guitar. The delicate piano of "It Kills" erupts into a stirring bass drum pulse, throbbing under the same kind of gospel vocal accompaniment that appeared on the 1998 Afghan Whig's album 1965. "Algiers" is a lonely dusty Western epic strummed carelessly and listlessly over a classic Phil Spector drum beat. The horror movie piano of "Lost In The Woods" plods ominously under breathy wine soaked vocals. "The Lottery" might be the closest to classic Afghan Whigs, with its cutting anxious riffing, but still has the modern flare of drum machines shuffling and scattering underneath, as well as that same tight punchiness that marks the rest of the album. And then it ends gloriously with "These Sticks" - all clattering toms, epic John Barry horns and Greg Dulli seeming to howl an acrimonious goodbye. All over this record in fact his voice is that perfect mix of grit, sensuality, sadness, anger and off key soul that has always been the perfect accompaniment to the Whigs' twisted take on late night Motown. So, no it's not really the album we expected, or the album we wanted, but we're damn happy it's the one we got. Comeback of the year? No doubt.
Available on cd or lp, the latter with download.
For all the black metal bands, trafficking in raw, primitive, crusty, blackened d-beat driven minimal metal, few can touch mighty Canadian BM horde Akitsa. Active for over a decade, every record from Akitsa is a grim black testament, an unholy writ, rendered in greys and blacks and blood reds, a sonic assault equal parts frosty blast and thrashing crush, but infused with stray elements of pop and drone and classic metal, those elements subverted and transformed and absorbed into the bands twisted take on classic black metal. Feral like punk, buzzy like black metal, doused in noise, Au Crepuscule De L'Esperance might be the weirdest Akitsa yet, which makes perfect sense as it's their first for Hospital, run by the man behind Prurient and Ash Pool among others.
Past Akitsa records were experimental, but subtly so, here the band digs deep, explores their sound in ways only hinted at before, so between bouts of blast and bash, there are long stretches of manipulated sound, of dark drones, and sculpted noise.
The record begins with a brief nearly 3 minute stretch of crumbling distortion, of hiss and glitch, a swirling cloud of corrosive noise, but wrapped around a strange haunting melody, the sort of thing you might hear on a Prurient disc, but not normally on black metal records. But here it sounds perfect, a caustic blown out blacknoise intro, leading right into still more weirdness, a hazy melodic dirge, weirdly loping drums, soaring majestic riffing, what sounds like organ, a mysterious minor key slow burn, the harsh vokills hardly distracting from this blurred melodies and almost regal sounding crush.
"Morsure" is really the first old school Akitsa jam, pounding, the guitars grinding and super distorted, the vocals a hellish bellow, the drums, a punkish pound, trancelike and repetitive, killer of course, but even more so set amidst all this fucked up far out experimentation.
Then there's tracks like "Loyaute", dirgey and almost groovy, sorta like some Stooges-y garage rock coated in filth and slowed down, again way melodic, but still fierce and with weirdly whined almost glammy sounding vox, and a killer main riff, which explodes into the blown out drone drenched chugscape of "Cercueil National", with it's howled vocals, and looped tranced out riffage.
The title track is another chunk of outsider black noise, or metal noise, totally in the red, meters pegged, layered drone, crumbling distortion, the various layers throbbing and pulsing, super hypnotic and noisy, but weirdly dreamy too, a sort of shoegazy melodic thrum, but super charged and blackened.
The rest of the record plays out like a more traditional Akitsa record, blasting, pounding, thrashing, simple and stripped down, but WAY distorted, until the final song, which sounds like a Japanese Brainbombs, or something, an insanely distorted riff, seemingly assembled from white noise, a lumbering drum plod, and some awesome croaked, almost throat singing style vocals, super creepy and fucked up and GENIUS.
Sweater not included.
The phrase "post black metal" gets bandied around quite a bit these days. It's seemingly become a catch-all for any BM-leaning band that doesn't wear corpse paint and/or spikes and doesn't shriek about Satan and/or Odin, and when there's so much rampant experimentation going on in a genre it can create a certain desensitization. Nothing's shocking anymore! That's why it's all the more rare nowadays for a band to emerge from the black metal scene that could truly be considered challenging and progressive, but Ireland's Altar of Plagues are most certainly one of those bands. Teethed Glory and Injury is, first and foremost, massive. An enormously modern rebuttal to metal's often backwards-looking tendencies. The album shifts seamlessly from immersive instrumental drone to frantic blurring blast beats with a surgical precision. The decayed buzz of the ambient passages (which make up a pretty big portion of the record) perfectly compliment the more "metal" tracks without ever feeling like filler. Instead they feel just as essential, giving the record a sense of patience and an ebb/flow not often found in this sort of band. The effect is oddly hypnotic and peaceful, even if at the same time the album is often undeniably crushing and unnerving. When it isn't lulling you into a false sense of security with its more spacious moments, it's absolutely pummeling you with an overwhelming aural assault of hyper blasts, chilling frigid vokillz and calculated mesmerizing riffs, like crackling transmissions relayed from an alternate future where the decomposing urban desolation of early Godflesh and Swans have replaced the usual Bathory/Darkthrone blueprint as the primary black metal template. The result is singular and thrilling - a brief and terrifying glimpse at the ruined dystopic landscape black metal will one day become. But first we'll have to wait for all of those other bands to catch up!
A couple years back we flipped for a record by the oddly monikered Angst Skvadron, a side project from one of the guys in Urgehal and Beastcraft, but unlike those more traditionally black hordes, Angst Skvadron trafficked in something more proggy and spacey and psychedelic, still sort of black metal, but mostly something else entirely. Armed with a battery of vintage synths and Mellotrons, Angst Skvadron whipped up what was probably our favorite weirdo whatthefuck sort of black metal record of 2010. The strange thing was that that record, Sweet Poison, was in fact their second album, and somehow, the debut had disappeared before we ever got a chance to list/review it. Thankfully, both have now been reissued, Sweet Poison, which is reviewed again elsewhere on this week's list, and this one, Flukt, which we're finally able to review after all these years.
Originally released in 2008, Flukt definitely hints at what would come on Sweet Poison, and while not nearly as far out as the follow up, it is sort of the perfect gateway from the more grim black buzz of Urgehal and Beastcraft, to the tripped out black prog of Sweet Poison. Flukt is still essentially a black metal record, but it's a weird one. Lots of woozy guitars, tangled melodies, strange vocals, the vibe is super Voivod-y much of the time, mathy and melodic, a bit sci-fi for sure, and way proggy. The record is rife with strange moments, the disembodied lo-fi guitar drift that closes "Silent Light, Alien Night", the creepy horror movie theremin melodies all over "A Song To The Sky", there's the awesomely titled "The Asteroid Haemorhoids And The Drunken Sailor", a super distorted chugfest, rife with cool sixties style exotic melodies, that sounds like some sixties spy movie, black metallized, or the woozy acoustic guitar laced lope of "Slaves Of Mental Distortion", which finishes with some warped sliced and diced sampling. There's plenty of rad psychedelic leads, and loads of atmospheric weirdness, but all of that is woven into some killer buzzing blackness, minor key and midtempo, striking a perfect balance between classic black buzz and warped blackened weirdness.
Trondr Nefas, aka T.B., is probably better known in black metal circles for fronting Norwegian heavyweights Urgehal and Beastcraft, among others, but odds are that might be about to change with Angst Skvadron, a blackened bastard offspring, that while still black metal is so much more.
This is record number two from this post black metal trio, whose sound, if we had to describe it, would be something more like post space black prog. And were this easier to get, don't doubt that this would have been a shoo-in for Record of The Week. For some of us it's already Record Of The Year!
Employing the usual instruments, but with an incredible arsenal of vintage and classic keyboards and synths, even a Mellotron, to add all sorts of texture and weirdness to their grim black sound. Did we mention ghostly female vocals? Yeah, these guys are a strange proposition, but have maybe catapulted themselves right to the front of the line, that line being our favorite new black metal bands.
Just take record opener "Valium Holocaust" (great title), opening with a cloud or reverbed piano rumbles, before launching into a lumbering midtempo dirge, equal parts Ved Buens Ende, Khold and Voivod at 16 rpm, the guitars warped and crumbling, the riffs woozy, the rhythm peppered with toiling bells, and laced with little glimmering tangles of melody, and super melodic basslines, and of course some haunting female vocals, that make the track either sound like some black metal Argento soundtrack, or some blackened version of Hundred Sights Of Koenji, gorgeous and creepy and far out and spacey and totally mesmerizing.
The whole record is so close to NOT being black metal. The riffs are gnarled and not at all typical, sounding almost grungy at times, like a way more grim black Skin Yard, which is definitely a good thing.
There are moments of blackness for sure, but even then, the band seem dead set on subverting any sort of true kvlt cred they might otherwise be developing, by twisting the songs all up, whether it's adding Mellotron strings, and creating weird carnivalesque slowcore, or adding all sort of strange crooning vocals, or taking an otherwise black blast beat, and transforming it into a mathy stutter. The slow atmospheric bits are incredible, not just randomly quiet for a minute or two like most BM bands, these are fully formed bits of minimal moodiness, with lush tangled melodies, ghostly harmonies, thick wheezing organs, often giving way to spaced out blackened krautrock, all clean guitars, hazy clouds of reverb, rubbery Joy Division basslines, some full on whatthefuck post industrial lumber and crunch, with thick buzzy bass riffs, and streaks of static and hiss, all wound around some incredible black metal grooves, some of the best riffs we've heard in ages, that in other hands could be the basis for perfect pop songs, but here just infuse the blackness with a weirdly irresistible pop element, that helps make these songs totally weird, totally catchy, and completely genius.
The record finishes off with an unlikely three song salvo, some warm almost sunshiney softly strummed minimal pop, all brushed snares, soaring strings, major key melodies, a lush gauzy dream pop dronescape, that gives way to possibly the most mathy and convoluted track on the record, all super tangled riffage, octopoidal math rock drums, serpentine basslines, super heavy and harrowing, with tortured super effected tripped out vocals, culminating in heaving doomic crush, before finally finishing off with the weirdly melodic title track, a wistful minor key dirge, all clean chiming guitars, simple spare drumming, strings and flutes (or at least the Mellotron version), gorgeous and dreamy and softly psychedelic, an appropriately unlikely finish to one of the most unlikely 'black metal' records in recent memory. And quickly becoming our favorite...
It doesn't seem so long ago that these youthful Sheffield lads first burst into our consciousness with their exhilarating brand of punky Britpop, but now we're five albums in, and against all odds the Arctic Monkeys have become a band that one might be tempted to apply the "aging gracefully" tag to. AM finds Arctic Monkeys much more stripped down and streamlined. The reckless abandon and teenage mischief of their earlier records has been traded in for a certain slinky nocturnal sexiness, more suited for night drives to questionable locales than for rides in the back of police vans. There's a palpable hazy drunken wooziness that looms over much of the record. The lyrics are all dusky imagery: romantic obsession, unspoken implications, scandalous secrets, yearning to be owned by someone, yearning to own someone... that kind of thing! And that theme of reading between the lines is perfectly represented in the music. The songs are just as much about what isn't there as what is. The vocals are a lazy stand offish drawl often backed by breathy falsettos - sometimes channeling a sexually charged Morrissey, while the songs themselves are sometimes fantastically minimal. Twangy slithering guitars squirm over dusty sparse drum beats, many of which have a noticeably hip hop feel to them. But really there's plenty for heavier rockers to appreciate here as well. In fact, the band has cited not only Black Sabbath but also cult '70s proto-metallers Sir Lord Baltimore as direct influences on this record and it's not hard to see why. "R U Mine?" and "Arabella" both have a distinctly '70s stoner vibe to them - the latter of which even features a bit of a "War Pigs" homage in the riffing. "I Want It All", meanwhile, is a total glam rock stomp, recalling classic Sweet as much as it does Queens Of The Stone Age (with whom the band has been known to occasionally collaborate). Elsewhere, things take an even more retro turn with "Snap Out of It" which sounds like a classic Motown girl group cut colored a smokey midnight hue, and "No. 1 Party Anthem", a song which betrays its name, sounding more like a beautiful comedown - a glittery and twinkling piano ballad that almost comes across like a more seductive version of Radiohead's "No Surprises". Like so many great records, it's one that takes a couple of spins to really get its claws in you, but once it does it becomes irresistible and addictive - like an unhealthy obsession that feels too good to kick!
Arkha Sva are another one of our favorite black metal bands, who for whatever reason, have yet to appear on out list save for one solitary cassette listed way back in 2006. But holy shit, these guys are amazing, from Japan, these guys, along with aQ faves Avsolutized (who it's rumored might share a member or two) as well as Manierisme, make up a whole scene that seems to be lurking well beneath the underground, but we can't imagine for long, as the music of these bands is mind blowing, at once beholden to the BM that came before, but so much its own entity.
Arkha Sva create a soundworld both buzzy and murky, lo-fi, with tangled arrangements, droney blasting blackness, so super atmospheric and evocative, managing to be grim and buzzy, but also haunting and intense, with some of the most insane vocals ever, a wildly operatic shriek, that will later define the band's sound, but here only pops up once or twice, more often existing as a harsh howled hellish growl.
This disc collects two early tapes from 2005, and finds the band much more raw and primitive and rough, the sound only hinting at the more outsider and avant elements that would surface later. But in 2005, Arkha Sva were creating super grim, ultra murky buzz drenched black rituals. Channelling the spirit of the black legions, Mutiilation, Belktre, Vlad Tepes (one of the Black Legions members does all the cryptic calligraphy on AS records!), this is fierce and furious lo-fi blackness, the buzzing guitars a muddy swirl, the drums a throbbing murky pulse, all underpinning guttural strangled vocalisations, a swirling fuzzy black missive to the dark lord, there are some strange sonic surprises tucked away, most notably the aforementioned WAY louder-than-everything-else high pitched scream and weird falsetto. But for the most part this is just an awesome, droney blast of murky black buzz that is as hypnotic and space-y as it is blown out and brutal. They even do a couple covers, Mutiilation and Belketre!
So so so recommended. And we suggest you do whatever you can to get everything you can by these guys, and we can guarantee that their next full length will be an epochal moment in black metal. People freaking out over Paysage and Darkspace and whoever else might just find themselves switching their allegiance.
And check out this awesome live clip:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EpuBqeCdOCM
THIS IS CURRENTLY OUT OF PRINT OR OTHERWISE UNAVAILABLE TO US AT THE MOMENT, SO PLEASE DO NOT ORDER IT. SORRY.
SORRY.
Albion's esteemed lord of achingly gorgeous acoustic 12-string instrumentalism returns to sun-dapple your fragile speakers, minds & lives once more with his painstakingly crystalline brand of tender fingerpicked loveliness. Aglow with guitar melodies that sparkle & xylophones that twinkle like campsite stars, throbbing church organs, fluttering flutes that dance around your head like little forest sprites, and the kind of mood that only seems to exist in dreams that you wake up wishing you could remember, Summoning Suns (which features a number of talented sidepersons, including Simon Scott of Slowdive) is James Blackshaw's twelfth (!) studio album by our reckoning, but only the first to feature his voice (with the exception of the occasional background breathing that could be picked up on some of his more sparse early acoustic tracks - seriously, listen for 'em!). What took so long?? The hushed patient sigh of Blackshaw's voice is a perfect accompaniment to his summery yet somber, bright yet bittersweet, lush yet longing compositions, at times recalling the pastoral Renaissance meadowland folk of Amazing Blondel and elsewhere the haunted bedroom whisper of Elliott Smith. Like much of Blackshaw's best work, Summoning Suns sublimely balances stately timeless beauty with faraway unnamable yearning, a faint sadness drifting beneath even the most glorious of melodies - a reminder that even the sunniest days only last until sundown - beautiful and fleeting, just like this record.
Experience the chilling terror of.... BLIZARO! Thrill to the nightmarish sensation that is... BLIZARO!
Enjoy the lovely melodies of... BLIZARO! Space out to the swirling sizzling synths of... BLIZARO!
Puzzle at the schizophrenic doom-prog-metal-soundscapes conjured by... BLIZARO!
Oh yeah, we've been waiting for this one for a while! Keen readers of the AQ list might recall mention of Blizaro in our review of the debut Crucifist release on Profound Lore, earlier this year. We mentioned that the guitarist from that blackened death-thrash entity, John Gallo (also of true doomsters Orodruin), had an awesome, eccentric synth-based side project called Blizaro, whom we'd experienced via some self-released cd-r's. Thus we were looking forward to Blizaro's upcoming full-length cd, and at long last, it's finally here! Like a mad scientist's lo-fi, DIY mashup of Goblin and Black Sabbath, Blizaro is right up our dark and creepy alley. Yours too we might imagine. It almost makes up for that Tony Tears album having gone out of print.
There's definitely plenty of metal bands who have taken inspiration from the classic Italian horror/suspense "giallo" cinema (and soundtracks), we're thinking Necrophagist, Hooded Menace, Cathedral, Moss, Acid Witch... and of course other musicians too, recent good examples being Zombi, Majeure, Magda, and Umberto. (Oh, and NightSatan, whose album we should soon have, too.) But Blizaro kind of take it to another, weirder level of worship. Blizaro is bizarro, yes that's for sure. Their sinister synthesis of Goblin/Sabbath has some off-kilter, confusional, sorta Sun City Girlish elements to it as well. It never really gets very metal, actually, but also stays away from the disco thing too.
Divided into two halves, one "Physical" and one "Mental", this disc offers up a deranged range of strangeness, from the fuzzed out Sabbathy psych riffage of "Midnight Lurkers" to the purely synthesized spacey suspensefulness of "Violet Cosmos". The eight minute opening epic, title track "City Of Living Nightmare", is a progged out tour de force of both gentle, eerie melodies and jagged martial metal riffage. It certainly sets the stage for what follows... cinematic symphonics, whispered vocal incantations, organ drones, monkish moans, sickly grooves, acid guitar soloing, druggy atmospheres... with song titles like "Eyes In The Caskets", "Catacomb Man", "Portallucinations", and "Ceremonial Bone Ritual". And then, at the opposite end of the album, as if to give credit where credit is due, Blizaro wind up the disc with a spot-on cover of Goblin's theme to Suspira! Almost unnecessary, after what's come before, but a nice touch nonetheless.
Quite recommended, especially to those who dig, say, both Osanna and Witchfinder General, or Fabio Frizzi and Paul Chain (all artists, among many others, that Blizaro cite as influences). Man, if only this were an actual soundtrack to an obscure old giallo, in the tradition of Argento and Fulci, we'd sure love to see that movie!!
So, people, if you dare, feel the embrace of the purple-hued, witch-haunted horror that is... BLIZARO!
To quote ourselves, prepare again to "feel the embrace of the purple-hued, witch-haunted horror that is... Blizaro!"
Yup, in reviewing this double disc journey into the violet cosmos of the prog/doom/soundtrack obsessed, mostly-one-man-band Blizaro, we would find it hard to top what we said about 'em before, in our review of the album we made a Record Of The Week back in 2010. That disc, City Of Living Nightmare, we likened to a mad scientist's lo-fi, DIY mashup of Goblin and Black Sabbath - a hybrid of psychedelic doom metal, synthesizer prog, and Italian giallo soundtracks that totally blew us away. That was followed by a split with female-fronted occult doom-deathsters Wooden Stake, also really great.
But what came before? Well, several homebrewed cd-r's worth of Blizaro music preceded the compact disc debut we had made Record Of The Week. Some of us here had tracked down copies of those, and ever since we've been hoping they'd get reissued so we could share 'em with you. In fact, we liked 'em so much, we got in touch with the man behind Blizaro, John Gallo (guitarist for Rochester, NY doom metallers Orodruin), and were "in talks" with him to re-release the these cd-r's together on a proper cd, via aQuarius, like we did with our White Hills and Carlton Melton Record Store Day discs! But then the Italian label I, Voidhanger stepped in and snatched Blizaro away from us - which is perfectly okay 'cause they really did such a great job putting together this nicely appointed package, which they expanded to two discs, not just one, incorporating not only the material from Blizaro's three pre-City cd-r's, but also a more recent recording we hadn't yet heard, plus a whole bunch of unreleased bonus tracks too.
Disc one of Strange Doorways consists of the tracks from Blizaro's The Old Wizard Of Winter (2009) and Black Magicians (2012) cd-rs, along with three extra unreleased tracks. Disc two's got the Horror Rock (2006) and Blue Tape (2008) cd-r's, and five extra cuts. 40 tracks in all! It's quite a varied array of material, all of it proving how amazingly talented and creative John Gallo is as a musician and songwriter. The music here ranges from creepy groovy stuff in the Goblin-y realm, to full on '70s hard rockin', to quirky prog epics, to strange synthesizer experiments, to classical guitar styled fantasias, and even echoed-out synthbass bunkurfunk. Lots to listen to, lots to like. The Old Wizard Of Winter stuff is heavily synth-based (originally recorded as a Christmas gift for relatives!!), mostly all Moog and organ, whereas elsewhere Gallo puts his electric guitar and quite a few other instruments to good use, his voice too, and gets a bit of help from friends, including his bandmates in Orodruin, and members of Revered Bizarre. BTW, Blizaro now has a membership of three, Gallo plus a drummer and bassist, so here's hoping they go on tour and we get to see 'em!
The thick cd booklet features pages and pages of track-by-track liner notes from Gallo himself, discussing his ideas, inspirations and equipment, how each track came together. Kinda writing his own review, he namechecks everyone from Goblin and Paul Chain to Vangelis and Tangerine Dream to Atomic Rooster and Arthur Brown. We can hear it all, for sure. Wow. We've heard plenty of bedroom recorded indie pop and electronica, black metal too, but eccentric progged-out proto-metal? Blizaro does that - and more - quite convincingly. Highly recommended of course.
Before we'd even HEARD this obscure Italian instrumental library music reissue, it had a lot going for it� Groovy name and title, crude freaky album artwork (really - it's got dinosaurs, and a stonehenge, and a mushroom cloud, and what the heck is that eye in the sky doing exactly?), and also it's from the magic year of 1971! Could it live up to all that? YES. And how.
Recorded by anonymous studio musicians from Milan, intended for use as incidental music for use (presumably suitably hip) film, TV and/or radio productions, this rare collectable is vintage psychsploitation weirdness for all you proto-metal and prog rock heads, full of lumbering heavy psych riffage, often with an eerie overlay of synth. Opening cut "Diodo" immediately suggests the likes of Iron Butterfly's "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida" and Cream's "Sunshine Of Your Love", heavy maaaan! The Distortions title is accurate indeed when it comes to the guitars. But that's mixed with more sinister and/or romantic sounding grooviness elsewhere on the album, like the delicate (but still distorted) dance of "Compression" ferinstance.
The tracks on this disc are suspenseful, exciting, energetic, trippy, with titles like "Microchaos", 'Violence", and "Psycho-Nebulous". Listening to this, you can easily imagine kitschy retro-cool characters in black leather catsuits a la Danger Diabolik interacting with longhaired drugged out hippies in groovy psychedelic discotheques, with this music blaring and colored lights flashing. Spy cinema, spaghetti westerns, biker movies, could (and did?) all make use of these droning fuzz blasters and glammy grooves� we certainly would love to see any movie or TV show that had Blue Phantom on the soundtrack! Hmm, apparently quite a few of these cuts were used in a Jess Franco flick from '72 called Sinner: Diary of a Nymphomaniac...
Definitely one of the best (and by far the heaviest) stand-on-its-own "library music" album we've ever encountered, as good as a lot of 'actual bands' of the era, we've been spinning it quite a bit here at the shop since we got it in� which lead to a funny moment, when aQ overlords Allan and Andee were puzzling over the phenomenon of how there's still such awesome obscure stuff like this out there getting reissued that we'd never heard of of before, when some random girl walked into the store and immediately was like, "Oh, you're playing Blue Phantom! I love that record!", unintentionally showing up us record store nerds, eh?
This reissue includes a non-album bonus track, the only other Blue Phantom recording apparently known.
Cleveland's Cloud Nothings began life as fuzzy jangle poppers, but even in those early days, the group displayed a knack for not just crafting killer hooks, but also for being pretty adept and serious psychedelic noisiness and blown out bombast, which all came to a head with their most recent full length, Attack On Memory, which was way darker and noisier than anything that came before. If anything, this new one splits the difference, still heavily indebted to that classic nineties indie/college rock sound, Cloud Nothings make it their own, crafting noisy, poppy gems that slip easily from hooky, fuzzy crunch, to wild, blown out shoegaze noise rock pound. Opener "Now Hear In" sounds like something you could have heard on the radio back in the day, roughed up a bit and doused in distortion. Which when we think about it pretty much describes the whole record. If you love that sound, and as we've established by now, most of us do, then Here And Nowhere Else is about as good as it gets, a perfect approximation of that sound, but cranked to high heaven, rife with impossible hooks, raspy vocal howl, wild tangled of buzzy guitars, sheets of noisy distortion, wild chaotic drumming, some tracks slowing it down a bit, but even those seem to always eventually explode into full on frantic and frenetic noise rock blowouts, that like on Attack On Memory, often verge on total emo/screamo, and all with a bit of gothy, gloominess running throughout, which means fans of Interpol, Ceremony, Holograms, Iceage and the like will dig this too.
Closing track "I'm Not Part Of Me" might be the catchiest jam here - which is weird, cuz what band tucks their catchiest potential hit way at the end of a record? A band like Cloud Nothings with hooks and potential hits to spare!
We loved this the very first time we played it, but with every listen we dig this record more and more, and for the noise pop nerds around aQ, this is fast becoming a contender for our favorite record of the year! Definitely a Record Of The Week.
You think you've got some weird cds in your collection? Make room for this one if you dare. Heck, as soon as we peeped the crude fantasy cover art, we were like, new favorite album!
'80s Mexican heavy metallers Cristal Y Acero (Crystal And Steel) were responsible for this strange record, originally released in 1984, billed as the "Primera Opera Rock Mexicana". Kuman was indeed a wild Spanish-language rock opera, apparently about a muscular Tarzan-type character (...in SPAAAAACE!!!). We're not sure, but from the photos included here we think this Kuman musical may have been an actual stage production, or maybe even something filmed for Mexican TV. It comes off like a weird, metallic mash-up of, like, Meatloaf and Os Mutantes, combining Cristal Y Acero's hard n' heavy old-school metal riffing with a variety of other pop musical genres - proggy pomp-rock, sappy soft rock, piano balladry, and more. It of course gets cheesy but in an amazing insane kitschy way, and always Cristal Y Acero's fuzzy hard rock riffage, harmonized leads, and gruff vocals come back in to kick ass, after whatever else happens. There's slinky lounge grooves, guest female vocals, '50s rock & roll pastiche, and METAL.
But that's not all, this cd also includes all the tracks from Cristal Y Acero's more traditional self-titled debut album from 1983, with some songs sung in English. It's pretty charming and cool too, with chugging guitars, widdly solos, and lots of raw old school metal might, in the style of such bands as Saxon and Accept - but Mexican, and on a budget. Presented together with Kuman, this disc is something for both cult metal aficionados and those into straight up WTF? strangeness.
Packaged in a mini-lp style sleeve, with inserts. Perhaps not remastered from the original master tapes.
Doth our ears deceive us? Have we been hurtled screaming backwards across the astral plane to the mythical hard rock glory age? To a time spoken of only in forgotten whispers and ancient half recalled prophecy?? An age mortal man knows only as... 1978??? Well, if track 6 on this mystical Swedish rocker of an album is anything to go by, which is LITERALLY called "1978" and references the album titles of at least 11 classic hard rock lp that came out that same year (sample line: "We wanted blood, and we got it for sure / Alive and dangerous, coming back for more!"), then yeah I think it's safe to say aQ HQ has been transformed into some sort of space-time hopping heavy metal Tardis.
But let's back up a bit here. Who are these Nordic axe warriors, striding forth from the mists in their flared jeans and denim shirts embroidered with moons and stars (we assume anyway)? Well, surprisingly The Dagger is a Swedish death metal supergroup of sorts! Featuring past and present members of such grave gurgling stalwarts as Grave, Dismember and Nifelheim. But instead of decrepit blast beats & grinding death dirges, this album is chockfull of the kind of late '70s / early '80s hard rockin' heavy metal that we absolutely eat up here at aQuarius. It's pretty heavy on the homage to be sure, but it's done so well and with such genuine joy and enthusiasm that we don't mind one bit. Not to mention The Dagger's reference points build on a hard rock legacy that seldom gets its due from modern bands. As much we love doom metal around here, we'll be the first to admit it can be sort of hard to get excited about a band regurgitating the same Black Sabbath riffs and Ozzy aping vox unless it's done really exceptionally well. But when a band like The Dagger shows up instead sounding almost exactly like some sort of mash up of NWOBHM, early Scorpions, '80s Sabbath, solo Dio and especially '70s Deep Purple/Rainbow (there's even a song called "Skygazer"... hmm... more than a little similar to Rainbow's "Stargazer", eh?!), we're gonna immediately stand up and take notice! This is thing is bursting with Blackmore-ian minstrel harmonies and Uli-esque mystical swaying grooves. Vocalist Jani Kataja is almost a dead ringer for Ian Gillan (which is no small feat!), his strained, bluesy wail lending the songs a serious timeless world weariness, even at the most up tempo of times of which there are plenty. There's swirling Hammond organ, there's talk of "dark gypsy women", there's boogie-woogie numbers, there's Judas Priest style fist pumpers, there's crumbling doomy groovers, hell there's even a Quartz cover, "Mainline Riders"! In short, it's a rusted cauldron bubbling over with everything great about '70s dragon rock. Is it terribly original? Maybe not. But are you gonna find another band that sounds like The Dagger any time soon? Not from this decade you ain't. Recommended.
After originally surfacing on a very limited hand xeroxed cassette back in 2010 (kvlt!), Deafheaven's first and only demo is now finally widely accessible on beautiful vinyl for rabid blackgaze enthusiasts the world over! Beautifully and minimally packaged (looking a bit like some long lost Smiths single), the recordings found herein - though a bit rougher around the edges perhaps than their most recent 'Sunbather' LP - showcase one of those rare groups that entirely skipped that awkward gestation period that even the best bands typically go through. There's no finding their footing going on here, no beginner's mistakes - Deafheaven's signature sound was already as fully formed and realized as most bands could hope for after years together. If you've heard any of Deafheaven's more recent recordings then you know what to expect: Epic post rock and shoegaze tinged black metal. Equal parts forlorn and life-affirming, aching and jubilant. Endlessly beautiful cascading melodies to get lost in, perfectly juxtaposed with anguished venomous vocals. Wonderfully bittersweet but without ever sacrificing an ounce of fury. Being a demo, this finds the band a bit looser and (comparatively) more stripped down. The drumming is more raucous and off kilter than on Sunbather - the blastbeats imbued with a manic, almost uncontrollable energy - while likewise the guitars are less awash in layers and effects, a bit more traditionally black metal if you will! But it only adds to urgency and raw emotion on display. Deathwish snatched up Deafheaven in the blink of an eye after this demo started making the rounds originally, and it's not hard to see why. The origin point for a totally unique vision in heavy music - one that hopefully lasts a good long while. And did we mention they're from right around the corner from us too? ...Not that we're bragging or anything!
Deafheaven are a new band from right here in the Bay Area, who have been causing quite a stir lately in the metal underground, their soaring epic, super melodic black metal dividing the grim hordes right down the middle. Obviously, purists don't consider this to be black metal at all, which in some ways is fair, just listen to the opening 4 minutes of record opener "Violet", there's not a trace of blackness to be found, instead, you'll here Explosions In The Sky, Godspeed, Mogwai, majestic, bombastic, melodic, gorgeously lush and expansive. But then wait a few more seconds... and BAM, the band EXPLODE in a frenzy of buzzing and pounding blackend crush, rife with howled vokills, gnarled riffage, and there's no doubt that this is black metal, but not Immortal / Mayhem / Darkthrone black metal, no, it's more in line with the more melodic end of the BM spectrum, think Alcest, Fell Voices, Fauna, Wolves In The Throne Room, Deafheaven definitely have that Cascadian BM vibe going on too, but all of their blackness and buzz is most definitely tempered with heaping helpings of melody. Even at its most frenzied, Deafheaven essentially sound like Mogwai or EITS supercharged and metallized, it's still soaring and epic and majestic, just wrapped in thick swirling sheets of black metal buzz, and hell, it sounds pretty goddamn amazing.
The production is lush, the sound MASSIVE, the guitars thick and distorted, except when they're ringing out all clear and chiming, the arrangements are pretty expansive and epic too, blasting buzz giving way to droned out drift, which in turn gives way to another blast of furious melodic blackness.
Just four tracks, but they're all long, lots of parts, all moody and melodic, a dizzying hybrid of black metal, screamo and post rock, reminds us a little of a WAY more metal version of recent Record Of The Week-ers Pianos Become The Teeth, but where that band melded old school screamo to epic post rock, Deafheaven do the same with buzzing melodic black metal, the result, while perhaps not grim enough for some, is pretty tough to resist. And while we love how the songs shift from slow build brood to black blast, and back again, the real magic of Deafheaven is how they combine the two, taking churning buzzing blackness and laying some soaring coruscating shoegazey guitar chords over the top, or winding majestic, chiming, impossibly melancholic clean guitar melodies and lush textures into howling vokills and grinding black riffage, and while in battles between good and evil, we usually bet black, in this case, melody always seems to prevail, transforming what could have been just another chunk of blasting buzz into something gorgeous and transcendental.
Album number two from these local lads and the term "sophomore slump" has clearly never entered into their lexicon. Sunbather is an enormous slab of post-rock tinged black metal (or black metal tinged post-rock??) that expands and improves upon everything that made Roads to Judah such a buzzed about debut. Imagine Godspeed! You Black Emperor in a blender with Filosofem-era Burzum and you might get an idea. Or try and picture Ihsahn circa In the Nightside Eclipse howling over classic Smiths or U2 at a hyperspeed 666rpm and you might come even closer. The end result is like a far more furious Alcest (Neige even pops up to provide a bit of spoken word on one of the album's several ethereal interlude tracks). But what really makes Sunbather such a success is how it takes these myriad influences and melds them together so seamlessly. Not a moment of it sounds forced or contrived. The production is perfect. The guitars are an immense wall of grinding shimmering beauty. The drums a precise and deadly frenzy. The vocals an anguished wail, wonderfully at odds with the album's minimal luscious pink cover art. Sunbather is like hearing an emerging genre finally coming into its own. Deafheaven aren't the only band to combine post-rock and black metal, but they might be the first band to make it sound like something entirely new, but entirely natural at the same time.
Vinyl version, with a nice die-cut cover, includes bonus track not on cd (which we don't have yet anyway).
A list of the members of this new group should be enough to have most black metallers diving for the add-to-cart button: Kvarforth of Shining and Diabolicum, Skyellg from Naer Mataron and Paradigma, Seldemann from 1349 and Pantheon I, S. Winter from Gehenna and Aeternus and finally Jormundgand from Dodheimsgard. Odds are you probably have records by most, if not all of those bands in your collection, and while the sounds of those various groups are pretty varied, it will probably not prepare you for the sound of Den Saakaldte (which some might recognize as a Ved Buens Ende song title!).
Self described as "depressive black metal music with a modern avantgardist touch", the record begins with a long stretch of haunting choral voices, processed FX, soaring strings, swirling synths, deep rumbling drones, cabaret piano, shortwave interference, bits of hiss and glitch. It's an intro, sure, but only inasmuch as it's at the beginning of a black metal record, there are plenty of avant free-rock groups who would kill to come up with a track this cool and weird. But it is a black metal record, and it is after all an intro, so when the first song kicks in all heavy downtuned guitar, we're ready, but what we're not ready for is the trumpet, yep TRUMPET, the guitar trumpet drum mix is pretty cool, but soon gives way to something much more black, a churning blackened chugfest, heavy as fuck, with super deep howled processed vocals, killer drumming, amazing guitar playing, and super catchy main riff, the song twisting and turning and returning to the intro with an Eastern sounding guitar melody replacing the trumpet, before exploding back into that unmistakable Norwegian buzz, before slipping into some woozy doom, before lurching to a stop, leaving just a muted crackly clean guitar, and moaning almost choral vocals, before one final flurry of black buzz and a creepy drifty outro.
The rest of the record follows suit, channeling the spirit of the Norwegian legends: Gorgoroth, Ulver, Arcturus, Burzum, but with a definite dramatic vibe, and plenty of avant flourishes, whether they be weird acoustic guitar / accordion interludes, or strangled maniacal almost operatic vocals, or whole songs of dubbed out rhythms and processed piano, skittery electronic beats and disembodied horn sections.
The record finishes off with the nearly 12 minute lone "Jag Ar Den Fallna", featuring a guitar part that is total Thorns, but again, laced with minor key trumpet flourishes, as well as spidery guitar melodies, a groovy doomy depressive dirge, that explodes into a blast of black fury before crumbling into a sort of stumbling depressive Joy Division-y lurch, the track slipping effortlessly back and forth, from moaning minor key lumber, to blasting shrieking blackness, and back again, eventually the two disparate elements becoming one, the song turning into some blackened My Dying Bride, all epic classic doom, before that Thorns-like riff returns to finish things off, leading directly into the sub-minute long coda, a super creepy collage of little girl voices and atonal synths, wrapped in a gauzy otherworldly swirl of dense delay and reverb.
It might sound cliched to say, but they really don't make records that sound so much like this anymore, that nineties Norwegian sound, heavy and dark and catchy and majestic and mysterious and brutal and black, these are the sounds that lured us over to the dark side, and it's easy to see why, and strangely enough it still sounds as good today as it did 15 years ago. WAY recommended.
The underground's been buzzing about this band, they're the latest and one of the greatest doing the extreme death metallized ultradooooom thing, a style harking back to the days of Incantation in the '90s. Much like the Vasaeleth release on Profound Lore we recommended last year, Encoffination have turned the slo-mo brutality of death/doom into something almost artistically ritualistic, murky, morbid, and mesmeric, convincingly conveying blasphemous atmosphere. Bathed in funereal fuzz, Encoffination's riffs and rhythms are both akin to death knell bell tollings, the vokills guttural exhalations of fetid crypt breath, the guitars thick and foul and almost gaseous as well, this music mostly slow, sullen, a plodding funeral procession indeed, everything working towards a totality of insalubrious effect. Which, oddly enough, embraces a certain sort of sickly beauty. Their attention to detail extends to the b&w graphics in the cd booklet, elegant and old fashioned looking.
All in all an impressive debut from this depressive duo, the band consisting of Ghoat (Father Befouled, Festered, Hills Of Sefiroth, Vomitchapel, etc.) on vocals, guitar and bass, and Elektrokutioner (Decrepitaph, Scaremaker, Festered, Tombstones, and myriad others, including Wooden Stake, also reviewed this list) on drums. Your rotting corpse couldn't be in better hands... We're not kidding, turns out that Ghoat in fact is studying for a mortuary sciences degree and currently works as an assistant funeral director!
When we first heard this in the store, Harry was upfront manning the stereo, and we were actually convinced he was spinning some old glam rock record, so we were pretty surprised to discover it was actually Mary Timony from Helium's new band (named after a solo album of hers from a while back), and as much as we love(d) Helium, we never would have expected Timony to make a record that sounds so much like The Sweet. But she did, and it's awesome! At this point, we imagine most reviews will riff on the record title, but how can you resist, this record rips for sure, the sound super retro, but somehow modern and supercharged, the guitars fuzzy and reverbed, the songs swaggery and glammy, power pop stomps overflowing with crazy catchy hooks and amazing guitar melodies, and Timony's vocals seal the deal, the whole package sounding like some obscure seventies glam pop combo. We're immediately reminded of Matthew Melton's Bare Wires - Melton and Timony are most definitely kindred sonic souls, both mining a similar vein of retro psych/garage/glam rock, and both nailing it. We definitely hear hints of Timony's ex-Autoclave bandmate Christina Billotte's nineties indie rock outfits Slant 6 and Quix*o*tic too, and of course the Runaways. Really though, Timony has always been a master, with Helium, and solo too, but this might be our favorite record of hers since Helium's 1997 masterpiece The Magic City, but imagine that sound reworked and recast as something way more retro and glam poppy, and you'll get an idea of what this sounds like. A new unanimous store fave, and one that will likely end up on more than one year end top ten...
The metal label Stormspell's motto is "Old farts stuck In the '80s and proud of it". They're the folks who have been bringing us a lot of cool cd reissues of obscure, cult metal bands from the '80s (such as Max Planck, Xinr and Detest), some of 'em as part of Stormspell's ongoing "Red White and Heavy Arcane Collector Series For The Initiated" featuring long-lost demos from bands that are SO cult and obscure they never even got signed to make a proper album.
Well, the old farts at Stormspell have now found some young bands also stuck in the '80s, and have begun a new series of releases, putting these bands' demos out on cd but this time not waiting 30 years to do it. Fantastically dubbed the "Jewels Of Gwahlur" series (the Jewels Of Gwahlur being the macguffin of a Conan story of the same name), five volumes have now been released, and we're reviewing 'em all this list. It's a bit like something else Stormspell did some years ago, the "Thrash Clash" series of splits by underground thrash acts. But these bands are even more "old school" in sound.
Each entry in the series comes in nice trifold digi-wallet packaging, the covers pretty much identical except for the band logos, with a standardized "bejewelled ancient leather tome" look, a la the 3rd Edition D&D rulebooks if you're familiar with those; doubtless some of these bands are! However, despite the uniform design, each entry in the series gets its own unique artwork on the inside, as well as credits, liner notes, etc. Most of these discs are ep-length, around 4-6 tracks, but it should be noted that they're quite cheaply priced. So even though we're reviewing each one individually you might as well buy 'em all and let your cd player sort 'em out! As for us, we're looking forward to hearing more from all these bands (pretty sure we will!), and are curious as to what further Jewels Of Gwahlur will be uncovered by Stormspell in the future.
GRAVEN RITE from Texas play "arcane heavy metal", super epick, doomy, and majestically melodic, with commanding but melancholic vocals delivered with a slight nasal inflection. Inspired by pulp swords & sorcery fantasy of the Weird Tales variety, the five tracks this five piece offer up here should especially appeal to fans of Manilla Road. This is definitely the sort of thing that if it came out in the '80s (which it sounds like it could have) would be highly sought after by collectors and probably reissued by a label like Stormspell! Alternate universe mission accomplished. Out of the whole Jewels Of Gwahlur series, this one and Volume III by Terminus, are vying for being our personal top faves.
Hot damn, we're in high spirits indeed to be gettin' this new full-length from High Spirits, whose self-titled demos disc we raved about last year, and proved to be a bit of a sleeper hit here at AQ. We've been waiting for their "debut" album proper ever since, and now here it is, High Spirits offering up nine new, completely classic-sounding songs that you could mistake for NWOBHM gems circa '79.
The mastermind behind High Spirits is multi-instrumentalist Chris "Professor" Black, best known for his critically acclaimed one-man-band Dawnbringer on Profound Lore. High Spirits is another one man band, although Chris has recruited a color-coordinated lineup for live performances. Here, however, he handles all the vocals, guitars, drums, songwriting, etc., heck he even self-released the cd. And even moreso than with Dawnbringer, which grew out of a black/death metal basis to incorporate more melody and traditional speed metal shred, with High Spirits he's utterly indulging his love of good ol' fashioned, and downright poppy, metal. And damn is he good at it. Gorgeous guitarwork, catchy tuneage... What's more, these songs rise above being merely ear candy for retro-metal nostalgics (though ear candy it is!), because of his distinctive, dare we say delicate, high voice (often harmonized with himself) and heartfelt, non-ironic lyrics. The melancholic tinge to his singing, juxtaposed with the hot rockin', headbanging riffage, gives this a very special, unique vibe. Compared to a lot of other current "New Wave Of Old School Metal" bands we like (Cauldron, Enforcer, Zuul, Twisted Tower Dire...) there's something about High Spirits' sound and songwriting approach that comes across as particularly honest and uncontrived, whether the songs be about love, or partying. Somehow even the sorta cheesy, "nighttime in the big city" stuff a la the album cover/title track, comes off as innocent and sincere. Listening to High Spirits is like listening to a good friend (or an inner voice) giving you a psychological pep talk, backed by powerful, warmly fuzzed guitars. If we're making comparisons, we'd say this probably comes closest to last year's highly praised debut from Christian Mistress, no foolin'.
Color us quite impressed, anyway, with the good Professor's memorable-metal-making abilities! F'n recommended, yeah!!
Yay, You Are Here is here! Man, we love this band - or man, since the band is just one fella, Chris "Professor" Black, one of metal's most prolific and prodigious talents at the moment. He's guy behind Dawnbringer, for one thing. Just a little while ago, we listed High Spirits' latest demo disc, as well as another brainchild of Chris', the MetalUSAfer 7" (a brilliantly conceptual tribute of sorts to cult Japanese true metal stalwarts, Metalucifer). Not long before those, we had that unique Aktor single, featuring Chris in cahoots with Jussi from Circle.
So we, and hopefully you too, are pretty well primed for this brand new full-length album from Chris' purest (purist?) metal project, High Spirits, full of more of the NWOBHM-inspired, 'motivational montage metal' (our phrase) we love about them, er, him. (High Spirits do have a live formation, by the way, with Chris joined by guys from Zuul, but in the studio, it's all Chris.)
The prime paradox of High Spirits' songs are that they're seemingly deliberately calculated to be the soundtrack for rainslick city streets at night, illuminated in neon light (kinda cheesy and cinematic, on the poppier side of '80s heavy metal stylings, right?), but they're also, in part due to Chris' earnest voice, very sincere and heartfelt sounding too, not ironic or anything. On this album, High Spirits pulls it off again. Great stuff, super catchy as always, from the uptempo opener "When The Lights Go Down" (the only track here to also appear on that demo disc), to anthemic rocker "I Need Your Love", to moody but also rockin' breakup track "Reminding You Of Me", to their fantastic theme-song closer "High Spirits" (reprised from their debut demo of 2009), heck all nine cuts are great. There's tons of fuzz on the guitar, tasty solos abound, and lyrically it's all about loves won and lost, mostly the latter. Simple, fun stuff in a way, but who does this anymore? And does it so well? And with such gravitas and aplomb? Gotta love it. Also gotta love the cover art, High Spirits' ditching the usual metal graphic conventions for a celebration of public mass transit.
Ok, we could go on and on, but we already told ya how much we love High Spirits, just listen to the sound samples if you're still undecided; if the songs don't tug on your heartstrings and/or get your head to banging, then you're no friend of ours (not really, but it always sounds cool to say that).
We have cds, and colored vinyl while they last.
We can always count on local reissue label Companion Records to foster the kind of rare hidden musical gem that perhaps won't appeal to everyone, but will get a select group of enthusiasts very excited over the discovery of someone's sincerely unique, but oftentimes misguided musical vision. Companion's specialty has always been cd reissues of vintage private press vanity releases, such as the Luie Luie, Charlie Tweddle, Marc Mundy, and New Creation records, and for their first foray into vinyl, have given us two quite amazing but very different musical visionaries: the spirited orchestral lounge stylings of Michael Farneti (reviewed elsewhere on this list) and the latent stoner mope-psych of Stan Hubbs.
Released in collaboration with Gloriette Records (Nite Jewel, Ariel Pink, and Puro Instinct), Stan Hubbs' 1982 recording Crystal is more out of its time than ahead of it. Recorded in his rural Sonoma County living room, it seems like the band almost can't decide if they're latent hippie stoner boogie-folk, eighties shred-guitar rock or progressively disaffected mope wave, which makes for an unusually intriguing sound that is hard to pin down. Hubb's vocals sometimes sung in a near monotone with female singer Kriss O'Neil can sound as much like a downer Fleetwood Mac as it can resemble some of today's gloomy pop found in Beach Fossils or Crystal Ships. But it's Larry Doyle's kitchen sink electric guitar approach that makes it really out of sync in an amazing way. Using lots of psychedelic effects and sounding like he's eager to show off his shredding licks to anyone who comes along, Doyle shows just barely enough restraint not to overstep the hazy vibe the singers and keyboards are laying down. Imagine if Simply Saucer did a cover of America's "Tin Man", and you'll sort of get the idea. But this is regionalism at its best, taking lots of big musical ideas from different popular styles and making something completely home-brewed, a bit oft-kilter and super genuine. Limited to 500 copies, comes with a full reproduction of the 16 page booklet of lyrics and drawings that came with the original release. Hot Damn!
Light the seance candles and ready the Ouija board, Sweden's In Solitude have returned from realms unknown to deliver the third installment in an unholy trinity of ominous occult heavy metal, this time distilling their sound with a healthy dose of '80s goth rock and some serious stadium sized chops. While In Solitude's previous records wore their Mercyful Fate infatuation well and truly on their tattered sleeve, Sister takes their sound to strange new frontiers. While the misshapen shadow of King Diamond certainly still looms large over this record, there's just as much influence from bands like The Mission U.K., Fields of the Nephilim, and '80s Damned to name but a few! The production is perfectly sparse and simple, seeming to stretch and creak like rotting floorboards leading to dimly lit entry ways. Singer Pelle Ahmen sounds like a man in a trance, a restless spirit faintly crying out from the astral plane. He still definitely conjures the lower register ghostly wail of King Diamond, but just as often his crooning drawl recalls Danzig, Nick Cave, The Cult's Ian Astbury, and on the album's acoustic opener especially The Sisters of Mercy's Andrew Eldritch (could the album title be an homage??). While the fist pumping heavy metal of In Solitude's previous two records often revealed Ahmen's limits as a vocalist, in the context of their newly stripped down, more rock and roll sound he works absolutely perfectly, totally dominating the record with his unearthly presence. And for all the arcane occultism and haunting imagery, Sister is absolutely full to the brim with hooks and accessibility, often sounding a bit like Ghost (whom they're rumored to be aligned with member-wise somehow!) without all of the Scooby-Doo cartoon hokiness, but with just as much of an eye toward pop songcraft and classic rock'n'roll.
"Lavender" is almost like The Doors soundtracking a haunted house horror film with its Technicolor hints of '60s psychedelia and guitars spiraling with a circus acrobat's abandon over that ever present haunting vocal croon. Album closer "Inmost Nigredo" opens with a lush dreamy opium den crawl, like Pink Floyd at their most clinically depressed, before slumping into a doomy graveyard lurch layered with echoey fluttering black metal guitar leads, sounding a bit like a less obtuse Negative Plane or Occultation. Meanwhile the album's title track and possible album highlight grooves with a serious slithering swagger, seeping through the speakers like the undead sibling of G'n'R's "Mr. Brownstone" unearthed from some forgotten unmarked burial plot! Sister is the perfect example of tweaking a band's sound subtly, but just enough that it absolutely changes everything. In Solitude sound imbued with a vibrant new energy and a renewed sense of purpose, and Sister is most certainly a late in the game contender for metal record of the year, even though some might argue that this isn't (entirely) metal anymore.
(Heck Andee and Allan are both convinced that Sister reminds them a bit of an old fave from the '90s, the reverby Southern Gothic indie garage act the Rock*A*Teens.)
We reviewed the self-titled demo from this Australian duo a while back, and were immediately smitten by their twisted take on black metal, which was in fact way less metal, and more a sort of shoegazey minimal post punk noise pop, that just so happened to contain some black metal elements, but whatever you call it, we dug it like crazy. That whole demo is included here as secret hidden bonus tracks, we'll include the review of that demo below, but first, the new Loss Of Self record, Twelve Minutes, which thankfully clocks in at nearly seven minutes more than that! No sprawling epics, no 30 minute megajams, nope. Ultimately, even though they're on Flenser, and are constantly described as a black metal band, they are ultimately really just a weird blackened pop band, so under 3 minute song lengths are ideal. Opener "Paradise Overgrown" is pretty much the perfect sonic representation of what these guys do, clan indie guitar jangle, soon joined by a sort-of-blastbeat, raspy vokills too, but the music, super melodic, fuzzy and shoegazey, minus those vox, this would be some seriously blissed out pop, even with the blast beats, and then midsong, when it slows down and gets even more pretty and melodic, it really is only those vokills that keep this from being pure pop. "Isolt" strives to be more black, but purposely foils that plan, adding deep dramatic clean vocals, and thick swaths of fuzzy guitar shimmer, all wrapped around more grim vox and another blast beat, but this song too, near the end this time, transforms into a weird almost new wave sounding post punk. The title track too, soaring and super melodic, total fuzzy dream pop, with weird mathy drums, and a cool super melodic bassline, this track IS peppered with some actual black buzz blasts, but they're surrounded on all sides by some seriously sun dappled shoegaze poppiness. And so it goes, the second half of the record a push and pull between melodic poppiness and blackened buzz and blast, to be fair, there are more moments on the second half that approach proper grimnity, but even then, the sound can never seem to shrug off that poppiness, although we're guessing they're not trying that hard anyway. Love this stuff, and so psyched that the insanely limited cd-r demo is included here too. Here's what we had to say about that one:
The first demo track is a sort of gloomy, dirgey creep, at least in the beginning, all chiming guitars, and woozy, moody atmospheres, sinewy basslines and crumbling distorted chords, all hanging weightless in a field of what feels and sounds like classic shoegaze, the drums super distorted and blown out, the vibe laid back and languorous, at least until the last 45 seconds (the song's only 2 minutes long after all), where the song explodes into a dense tangled blast of blackened math metal, all shrieked vokills, pounding drums, squiggly psychedelic guitars, and swirling hazy atmospheres. The second track is more of the same, starting off galloping furiously, but the sounds washed out and gauzy, yeah, there are vokills here too, but the music is downright dreamy, sans the vocals, this would be pure shoegaze pop, lots of jangle and chiming chords, which is precisely what you can expect on track three too, although everything is slowed way down, the drums a swinging shuffle, the guitars woozy and bleary, everything sun dappled and prismatic, the sound slowly building to a epic, majestic, swirling post rock style crescendo, before finishing off with a final blast of pounding black shoegaze blissout.
We weren't at all sure what to make of this at first. Apparently there's been some degree of hype around these guys, the usual 'next big thing' stuff, of which we were blissfully unaware, instead we threw Impersonator on having no idea what to expect, and initially we were a little perplexed, faced with a moody, minimal drift, underpinning some big, super dramatic vocals, a world weary emotional croon, draped over a strange swirl of layered and looped vocal fragments, we were almost immediately mesmerized. The strange thing is that it landed at aQ right around the same time as two other sonically similar records, both reviewed elsewhere on this week's list. One is the Mayerling, which is another sort of slow croon minimal pop record, but that one is more electronic, and there's the new Dean Blunt, which also recasts his/their sound as something more darkly and electronically croony.
And while we dig all three of these records, there's definitely something special, and yeah, majical, about this record, hushed and haunting and heartfelt, the melodies aching, and in their own way timeless, the musical accompaniment so minimal in some cases, as to be nearly not there, a whispery organ whir, a chordal smear blurred into a soft focus drone, but elsewhere, beats percolate and surface, synths swirl, sounds blossom into prismatic flurries, sounds crumble and fade, at least one song sounds like some old eighties new wave ballad, but for the most part, these are dark, mysterious modern minimal torch songs, the vocals the focus, and the driving force, the melodies gorgeous and unforgettable, we're reminded of Scott Walker, Ian McCulloch from Echo & The Bunnymen, Midge Ure of Ultravox and even more so, the more we listen to Impersonator, the more it sounds like it could actually be the sonic sketch for a much bigger, more bombastic record. From the choruses, the arrangements, the vocals, even the minimal instrumentation, it's easy to imagine reworking this songs with buzzing guitars and pounding drums, sheets of synth buzz, which might be why they're so effective in this much more minimal form. It actually sounds like these could be tracks by groups like the Editors, or Interpol, or The National, with all the elements stripped away, leaving just the bare minimum, and somehow retaining the dark energy, the emotional heft and musical intensity of 'the original'.
A truly strange, and truly wonderful record, one that we've been listening to almost non stop since it came in. And for some of us, already a definite contender for our end of the year best of 2013 list...
BACK IN PRINT! This exceedingly weird '80s fantasy metal band has another of their many obscure albums reissued on cd! We first listed this way back in 2000, and it's a reissue of a 1983 album in the first place. But these days, Manilla Road is probably much better known than they ever were, whether nine or 26 years ago, now being cited as an influence by everyone from The Gates Of Slumber to Wormsblood, so it's about the time this cd was available again, particularly 'cause it's also pretty much our favorite of their whole weird ouvre (though they're still going strong even today).
When you talk about a cult metal band, they don't get much more "cult" than this one... Hailing from the state of Kansas, but more at home in some sub-Robert E. Howardian prehistoric epoch of swords and sorcery, this band is beloved by the same folks who worship Cirith Ungol and The Lord Weird Slough Feg, and should appeal to bizarre-minded fans of Iron Maiden, Rush, Blue Oyster Cult, Manowar... "Crystal Logic" is a perfect illustration of what's great (and ridiculous) about Manilla Road: eccentric (to say the least) vocals, a totally wrong (tinny, thin, poverty-stricken) guitar sound that paradoxically sounds fantastic & punk, doomy bass, mythological/intellectual lyrics, and lets not forget the so-bad-it's-good cover art... But most importantly, Manilla Road had the talent and imagination to write some great songs, and truly rule their own unique sub-genre of progressive, remarkably catchy garage-metal. This reissue includes the crazed guitar instrumental "Flaming Metal System" as a bonus track. On the album proper, you'll find true Manilla classics like the oft-covered "Necropolis", the doomy "The Veils Of Negative Existence", and the especially epic "Dreams Of Eschaton".
